What it's Like
by KisaCrescent
Summary: When granted with immortality in a world divided by war, family is one of the only things you have left to cherish. No matter what they have done.


What it's Like

Here I find myself yet again, laying in a bed, bandages covering portions of my body as my wounds are being tended to. Staring up at the ceiling as I ignore the pain movement causes to the angry bruises or bullet wounds marring areas of my flesh. I know she is giving me that look again, but could you blame me for not wanting to fight back? I understand that our only relation was our mother, but he is still my family, and no matter how much he hates me, or how long he intends to see me as the bad guy, he is my younger brother and I love him no matter what he has done.

I let my eyes close to subdue the sting of tears this thought causes, not wishing for my emotions to get the better of me in front of Elumira. Further forcing my body to relax with the soothing touch of her healing hands. Using this as a means to distract my troubled mind.

"I'm done."

Opening my eyes, I force myself to sit up, face scrunching in discomfort and marginal pain from the still healing bullet holes in my torso. Grabbing my choice go to tunic and slipping it back on over my petite frame.

"Thank you, Elumira." I give her a small smile, earning a tender pet on my un-wounded shoulder.

"Any time Storm."

I watch as she stands to leave. My fiery orange gaze lifting to the door and blinking to see the taller built man leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Looking unpleased to see me in the same state for the umpteenth time. Biting my lower lip as I cast my gaze to the floor to avoid the piercing stare of his golden irises that are burrowing into me from under his fedora. His voice coming out in a rumbling accented baritone.

"It happened again, Storm?"

I nod my head solemnly.

"Yeah, he ambushed me in Tiamarantra."

I listen to the clack of his boots, knowing he is walking into the room. His shadow casting onto the bed in front of me as he stands at my side.

"How long do you intend to let him push you around, for something you had no control over?"

Shoulders slumping, blowing a sigh through my lips as I lift my gaze to look Solun in the eyes.

"I can't fight him back Solun. I know we are on opposite sides on this conflict but I still can't bring myself to hurt him, even in self-defense."

"Even though he has hurt you, then, now, and will continue to do so, so long as you don't do something about it."

I furrow my brows at this in a bit of aggravation. Having heard much of the same speech from other legion members a few times before already.

"You don't think I have been trying, Solun? Every single time I try to make him see reason, to tell him what really happened and how her death wasn't my, or my father's fault," my gaze softening as I feel the sting of tears on my lower lids again. "And that despite him vengefully killing my father, that I forgive him, and just want us to be a family. To look past all of this because he is the only person I have left in this world that I am related to. How can you of all people even ask me to consider hurting him, with all that you and Aeolune have been through? I know for damn sure that even you could never consider hurting your little sister, even if she were too deeply wrong you. So don't you dare ask me to do the same with Zin."

Struggling with the turbulent emotions writhing in my body at the small outburst at these words. Taking a moment to recollect myself before my eyes widen a bit, realizing a bit of what I had just said to him. Sniffling and quickly wiping the tears out of my eyes. Looking down, feeling guilty now for the look of hurt in the elder daevas eyes.

"Solun, I'm sorry, I had no right to bring that up."

I flinch when I feel the elder flick me on the forehead. Lifting my hand up to tenderly rub the sting this gesture left behind. My body being jostled as he drops his weight onto the foot of the bed, his sight directed outside my studio door way. My lips pursed as I look down at him, his body tensed in his own bit of aggravation. I watch as he sighs, lifting a hand and waving it dismissively in his signature gesture.

"Just... Forget about it. I get it - it's not easy when you love the one out for your blood."

Smiling a little, knowing it was just his way of trying to apologies despite the effort this takes for him. Regardless of the stoic, and gruff demeanor I receive from him, I feel at the very least that these small gestures are just his way of showing he cares, and doesn't like to see those in the legion being hurt.

My smile becoming fond as the other gets up and walks to the door, casting his gaze over his shoulder and giving me a nod with a typical Solun farewell grunt. His black trench coat fluttering around his frame as he disappears from sight. Giggling to myself as this brings back the memories of how I came to the legion.

A fresh new Gunslinger who had just ascended. Coming from the small secluded roots of a farming family. I had just been given my first weapon when Soluns younger sister, Aeolune saw me in Sanctum. She could see how uncomfortable I felt being there with the large bustling nature of the city of Daevas, and approached me asking if I would like to come with her. Her happy and gleeful attitude was a refreshing breeze in contrast to most of the other veterans hanging around in the city made following her much more comforting.

Not long after I was made an honorary new recruit for NTU. With being a new gunslinger, Aeolune decided to introduce me to her older brother, the other being a veteran himself in this mutual profession of ours. Despite not obviously caring at all for me, he took me under his wing merely because his sister had asked him to. And even knowing he probably didn't even consider me anything more than just another face, I still considered him a mentor. Even now I still wonder a bit about how Solun sees me as opposed to back then.

The elder daeva having always disliked my boisterous excitement when someone gets me riled up for a fight. At first Soluns harsh, and painful gestures of giving me a shove, slapping me upside the head, or punching me in the shoulder when I get like that making me annoyed with him. Though it eventually got to a point where I saw that as his way of telling me to drop it down a notch and not get cocky with myself. I occasionally still do find myself getting egged into getting excited for a coming fight, but then again Solun is always around to put me back in place and make sure my head is on right versus not being there at all. So in spite of it all, I take the momentary painful nudges in stride and accept the tough love being given, knowing that Solun isn't much for affectionate gestures to begin with.

Rising from my bed, I make my way outside of my studio onto my balcony overlooking the legion palace courtyard. My eyes catching the sight of Aeolune and Solun. The two simply sitting together under a tree, looking to be casually speaking while they relax from the days listings they have finished. Resting my chin on my upturned palm, the sight warming my heart and as always, giving me hope that one day, that could be me and Zin.

My eyes slide closed. Echoed screams and cries coming to mind. The ghostly scent of ash and smoke. The feel of pain, heat, and fear returning to me. The vision of that life changing day replaying on my closed eyelids.

Those in my village were running for their lives when the Balaur soldiers attacked us. Having been in the village square when the soldiers came, I made desperate attempts to leave so I could return home to make sure father and my mother were alright. After struggling to get home, I was devastated at what I saw.

The farm house was alight with flames, the barn destroyed, wooden beams scattered with splintered wood littering the dirt as if a bomb had exploded inside. My heart rate quickening, rushing to the barn, feeling like I needed to be there. Void. I remember feeling void at the sight I happened upon. A beautiful pale skinned whited haired Asmodian women with passionately burning eyes lay there on a hay pile, dead. A sword piercing her heart, blood leaking from the wound and dribbling off her chin.

This women was my mother. A brave, daring women who had snuck back to Elysea to see me after so many years. Having to make the hard choice of leaving me and her true love, my Elyos father, behind because keeping themselves secret was becoming more and more difficult. I was six years old when she had left, and now she had returned to me twenty years later. Spending the day with us, telling me of all she had done, and informing me of the fact I have a half-brother who is three years younger than me. Zin was his name, and he was my mother's son, and a new family member I dearly wished to meet.

But that could never happen now. My mother was dead, the pleading cries of my father calling for help. I remember the anguished rage filled haze as my subconscious took over. Fighting, tearing, and punching with bare hands against the reptilian creatures who threatened to take my father from me to. It was only after I had regained consciousness, and knew my father was alright that I realized the heavy weight sprouting from my shoulder blades.

Somehow in the heat of battle to protect my father, I had ascended and became a Daeva. Then I remembered why I had been so upset. I ran back to the barn, my new, pristine white wings folding against my back as I knelt down next to my mother's body. Tears streaming from my eyes as I stifled the sobs trying to break free. And then he was there.

Zin had followed mother after his father, an Asmodian general, had told him she had ran off. Oddly enough, seeing him there, I realized we look so much alike. Like me and mother, he had long white hair, and fiery orange eyes that burned with passion. His skin tone however, more like his fathers.

Recognizing the Asmodian word for mother as he uttered it, it solidified my assumption as to who he was, and then realized how my position looked. Covered in blood, kneeling over our mother with my hand hovering over the entry wound to the sword piercing her body.

A simple case of wrong place at the wrong time.

Opening my eyes as the images subside. Staring at nothing in particular. That had been the same day Zin ascended. Earning his wings as he fought me with all that he could in his own anguish for mothers passing. The sight of me being next to her, leading him to believe I had turned on mother and killed her in cold blood.

And seeing those two together, makes me hope that one day Zin will finally listen to me, and realize his mistakes. A day to look forward to, no matter how foolish of me it is to wish for the impossible.


End file.
